


Dinner Parties Breed Suburban Chaos

by SirSticker



Series: A disastrous  family reunion au [4]
Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dinner, Family Bonding, Frankly I would qualify arson as such so fighting over dinner is just fine, Gen, I’m using family bonding very loosely here, emt, fnaf au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-15 02:13:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29926359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirSticker/pseuds/SirSticker
Summary: As most terrible things do, it all started with dinner. The four of them had figured out sleeping arrangements, and were getting settled in when Charlie went around asking if Chinese takeout would be fine for dinner. Liz and Christopher agreed of course, but when she got around to Michael he was rather hesitant. Not about the Chinese food, but seemingly about eating itself.
Relationships: Elizabeth Afton & Charlotte "Charlie" Emily, Elizabeth Afton & Michael Afton, Michael Afton & Charlotte "Charlie" Emily
Series: A disastrous  family reunion au [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1985248
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	Dinner Parties Breed Suburban Chaos

**Author's Note:**

> Slight content warning, there is a detailed description of a injury that if you wish to skip, starts after, ‘His shirt was pulled up all the way and the gory image was on display for all to see.’ And ends at, ‘Oh god, it was a medical professional’s worst nightmare. Luckily, they had two right there.’ Have fun!

As most terrible things do, it all started with dinner. The four of them had figured out sleeping arrangements, and were getting settled in when Charlie went around asking if Chinese takeout would be fine for dinner. Liz and Christopher agreed of course, but when she got around to Michael he was rather hesitant. Not about the Chinese food, but seemingly about eating itself. 

She had at least convinced him to eat some fried rice for when the food arrived, but Michael still seemed worried. Maybe there was more to it than it seemed.... No. No way! He probably just had some digestive issues from being around all these people he hadn’t seen in years! God knows she did. 

The food had finally arrived, and Charlie was setting out paper plates and plastic forks she had picked up at the store earlier today. She hollered for the others, and soon the three came down the stairs. They were clearly still upset about having to see each other again but hunger trumped all negative emotions.

The three siblings sat down at the table and continued shooting death glares at each other. Food was split up and silent eating began. Mutual hunger trumped many things, but awkward silence was unfortunately not one of them. Charlie couldn't stand it.

“So, uh, Micheal! What do you do for a living?” Charlie said, trying to break the ice. Stilted conversation was still better than the akward silence and sounds of the old house settling. Micheal seemed a tad annoyed at the interruption.

“Well, I mainly do work as a technician. It works similarly to a handyman, so it pays but no one job is too stable. My last job was at an animatronic rental place. Why do you ask?” He replied while nibbling on his fried rice.

“Oh, just trying to make conversation, heh. Hey, does that-“ She was cut off.

“Of course. You go on and on about how much you hate our Father, but you turn right around and do his dirty work the moment no-one is looking! There’s only one animatronic rental place this side of the Colorado!” Liz shouted, standing up.

“It’s not what you think! You don’t understand! I had my reasons.” Micheal retorted, also standing up.

“Like what? Being a suck-up?”

“Oh ho ho, says the favorite child!”

Liz scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“At least I didn’t turn tail and run the first chance I got. Unlike a certain coward.”

“At least I was smart enough to get the hell out of there!”

“Oh, my god. Can we all just agree that both of you suck?” Christopher said, fed up with his older siblings. He put his head in his hands to nurse the oncoming headache. A common occurrence, ever since the accident.

“Look, I’m sure you all have your reasons for doing the things you’ve done, but can you please just stop fighting-“ 

“He just left us! Didn’t try to do anything about anything!” Liz yelled. Her red bob bounced animatedly as she yelled.

“What does it matter, huh? It’s not like he ever helped us in the first place!” He also stood up from the his place at the table.

“Because, Christopher! He left us all alone in that hell-hole of a house without so much as a goodbye!” The argurment-turned-fight was getting heated. Charlie hoped it wouldn’t get to a point where she would have to break them up.

“It’s not my fault that you’re a spoiled little brat who can’t take it when people don’t follow her every word!” Micheal punctuated his statement by slamming his fist on the table. His fried rice inched closer to the edge.

Charlie stood up to try and talk some sense into them.

“Guys, fighting isn’t going to solve anything! Let’s just calm down and-“

“God, you say that like you didn’t nearly kill our little brother! I wish I was as self-absorbed as you are.” Liz hit the table with both hands. The fried rice moved even close to edge of the table. Michael had stabbed his plastic fork into the rice.

“Says the one who turned a blind eye to anything not about her!” His fried rice was nearly over the edge now. Just a slight disturbance more, and it would be gone. It had carrots, peas, eggs, and even chicken. It was very appetizing even in it’s thin takeout container.

“Oh, oh, of course it’s all my fault! I was a child, Michael.” Liz shouted, dismissive.

“And I wasn’t?!” 

Micheal slammed his fist into the table, sending the golden goodness of the fried rice flying. Charlie dived to try and catch the flimsy container, but failed. Instead of rescuing the tasty side dish, it fell and spilled all over the floor and some of the table. Usually after a loss like this, Charlie would simply clean it up and move on. She would be able to do this right away if not for one simple problem.

She was launching straight towards Michael’s midsection.

Now, normally this wouldn’t be too much of a problem. A few slightly-awkward apologies and some ice and things would be fine. But Charlie was a tad heavy for her size. She had no clue why, for she was pretty small in comparison. Heavy bones, she had concluded. And Michael didn’t seem like the sturdiest fella. She didn’t want to call him frail-looking but... Well.

All in a manner of seconds, Charlie dived to save the fried rice, Liz dived after her, Christopher had tried to stop the table from falling, and Michael looked very distressed. Liz failed, and the other two collided. Christopher failed, and the table was on its side after a loud , ‘Boom!’.

Now, let’s say, hypothetically, that you died. In a very painful manner with your organs all scooped out, but you’re not quite sure. That you died. Now, that gaping hole in your midsection is gonna be pretty sore even after you stitch it up. Consequently, if a rather heavy object with a focused point of impact hit you on the gash, you would likely pass out from the pain.

This was what happened to Michael.

Charlie smacked into Micheal and the two toppled to the floor.

“Shit!” Liz yelled. She walked over and reached out a hand to help Charlie up. She took it, and Liz pulled her up and offered a (slightly red) apologetic grin. She brushed the dust of her pants and took a look at Michael. He was still on the ground. Odd.

“Hey, Michael? Earth to Michael... Michael!”

Charlie knelt down to his level. She lightly slapped his cheek, but quickly pulled away. His skin was cold and clammy, and not in the normal way either. Something was wrong.

“He’s out cold.” She said, the words falling flat on the silent air of the dining room.

Liz hummed in response. Charlie went to check his pulse like Marla had shown her and the group. (An important skill, she would learn.) She put three fingers up to his wrist and waited 15 seconds. And waited 15 more. No familiar ‘thump, thump’. She swapped to his neck, maybe she’d just messed up. She was sweating now.

She raised her fingers and counted 15 Mississippi’s.

No dice.

“He has no pulse!” She yelled. The change in the conscious afton children was immediate.

“Shit, call an ambulance!” Yelled Christopher, who was previously putting the table back.

“On it!” Liz said, already dialing the short number. “Uh, it’s my brother! He’s unconscious and we can’t find a pulse!” A short pause.

“Yes, we’re at 1234 address lane in hurricane. We’re fine but he needs an ambulance!” More slight noise coming from the phone. “Keep his head elevated.” She said to Charlie, who nodded and moved Michael’s head in response.

“Yeah, I’m Elizabeth Afton.” A sigh. “My brother’s name is Michael Afton.”

More talking from the other end of the phone. Liz’s expression quickly shifted from one of concern to anger. “A fucking HOUR? He could be DEAD by then, you asshole!”

“Rrgg! Here, you take it!” She shoved her phone into Christopher’s chest much to his and the operator’s dismay. She stormed off elsewhere into the old house. She had spent so much time there as a child, the muscle memory was still ingrained in her being. Sleepovers with hushed voices long after they’d been sent to bed. Family dinners in all but blood. Secrets (and toys) shared with one another.

Charlie had taken off and folded up her green jacket to use as a makeshift pillow to lift Michael’s head. Thoughts were running through her head a mile a minute. Why had that hit Michael so hard? He couldn’t be that frail, was he? He was over 6 feet tall! He had to have some meat to his bones.

Meanwhile, Michael was having a very bad time. This sort of thing had happened before. Passing out from pain, that is. Such as the first few stitches in his midsection, or that time he had run into a table corner. In his current not-quite-dead not-quite-alive state, whenever this happened it was... odd, to say the least.

You know when you open your laptop and try to enter your password and the screen is on but the keyboard hasn’t quite caught up yet? Like that, but it was his body. He could try to move all he wanted, but it wouldn’t work until the bits other than his mind woke up. Ah, he could start to hear at least.

‘God, when’s the ambulance coming?’

‘Operator says a little under an hour. Recent storms gumming up the roads and all, you know?’

Wait. Ambulance? Oh. Oh no. They called an ambulance? Sure, a few people Michael could probably fool into thinking he was fine, but licensed medical professionals!? He was a pretty good liar, but he couldn’t lie to a stethoscope. Or a crematorium.

Though he was morbidly curious as to what the defibrillator felt like (perhaps something close to the controlled shocks back there) ... no. He would not be following through with that train of thought. In the meantime, he had some damage control to attend to.

He could move his fingers now, and the rest of his body would follow soon. Soon his toes, then his arms. He was focusing so much on moving, he stopped paying to the conversation happening in the room. Eventually he was to the point where he could sit up, and sit up he did.

“Hi.” He croaked.

Suddenly all eyes were on him.

————————————————————————————————————————————

Liz was currently in Charlie’s childhood bedroom. She had dusted off a spot on the floor when she had entered, and was now sitting there reminiscing. God, sometimes she wished she could return to simpler times. She knew the nostalgia she held for her childhood here was lying to her, creeping in and reminding her of the good times spent at the Emily household. She knew that things were more complicated than that, and she would always have to return to that house at the end of the day. But god, she could wish.

Then footsteps thudding up the hall snapped her out of it. She tensed, ready for a fight but they reached the door and she saw who it was.

“Christopher? What’s wrong?” She asked. He was breathless and panting.

“Micheal. Huff, awake, now!” He managed to get out.

“Really?!” She stood up and dashed out of the room, her younger brother following close behind. They made it to the dining room, and Liz took in the sight in front of her.

Charlie was kneeling on the ground next to Michael but had turned to look at Liz. Her expression was vaguely concerned mixed with stress. The fried rice was still spilled across the floor and Charlie’s army green jacket was messily folded beneath Michael’s head. Speaking of who, he was wide awake and staring at her.

“Uh.” he croaked, “hi.”

“What. The. Hell, is wrong with you!” 

“Whoa, Liz, let’s calm down. I don’t think he chose to pass out.” Charlie said and stood up. She walked over to her, slowly placed a warm hand on her shoulder and offered an apologetic grin. Liz calmed slightly at the gesture. She sighed and sat down in the chair where Christopher was sitting at dinner.

“Uh, for the record, I didn’t.” Michael said. He then tried to sit up before wincing and laying back down.

“Micheal, shut up and sit down.” Christopher snipped.

“Okay.”

They all stayed in the positions they were for a good bit. Charlie stood up and asked if anyone else wanted a glass of water, as she was going to grab one anyways. Michael was the only one who declined and probably for the best. He was still laying on the floor after all. (That and he was a corpse, but did they really need to know?)

She returned with the water and handed it out before returning to her original spot. They all just sat there in silence for a while before the awkwardness was broken with the wailing of a siren. Bright red an white lights followed, shining through the bare curtains covering the old dusty windows. 

“Christopher, did you hang up on 911?”

“Uh. Was I not supposed to?”

Someone started knocking on the door.

“Hello, is there an ‘Elizabeth Afton’ in there?!” A voice yelled- presumably an EMT. The knocking increased in volume.

“Wait, 911? Why would you call them? I’m fine!”

“Michael, we thought you were dead! Or dying, at the very least!”

“Well, I’m clearly well and fine! Tell them to go away!”

“You’re lying on the floor in pain. That doesn’t seem fine to me!”

“I can get up!” Michael shouted. He the proceeded to attempt a sit up-type situation.

“Hup, aaAAAHHHGGGGGGGGGG! I’m fine, I’m fine.” He managed to sit up but not much more. He held out his hand. “Little help?” Christopher huffed before taking his hand and helping him up. Michael swayed when he to his feet, but didn’t fall. “It’s okay, I’m okay.”

“Who asked?” Liz said, bitter.

“Michael, you still need to see the emt’s. You can’t just call an ambulance and then ignore them! Plus, I’m pretty sure they’ve already heard our yelling.” Charlie tried to reason.

“Look, I am a perfectly fine individual who is in peak physical form! See, I’ll prove it.” Michael then attempted to do a jumping jack. The key word here being ‘attempted’. He had somehow been sent reeling after stretching too far. (A.K.A, just raising his arms over his head.) He was knocked into the wall and slid to floor, a defeated expression on his face.

“Really.” Christopher replied.

“Oh, my god. I’m just going to answer the door. While I would love to continue to watch you wallow in pain on the floor, we have more important things to do.” Liz said while already heading toward the door.

“No no, wait!” Michael yelled. He made a mad dash, standing up and stumbling towards the door. But it was too late! Liz had already let them in.

“Finally. Where’s the unconscious guy?” There were two emt’s standing in the doorway. They were both dressed in black short-sleeved shirts and matching work pants with highlighter yellow accents. There looked to be one tan-skinned woman with a black bob holding some kind of red bag and the other seemed to be a dude pale as mayonnaise with curly strawberry-blonde hair.

“He’s awake, and right here. Michael, go ahead.” Liz stepped out of the doorway, leaving Michael on his own. 

‘What a cruel woman.’ He thought to himself in the split second it took for the emt’s to carefully grab ahold of him. The guy supported him while the lady held 3 fingers in front of his face. (He had been swaying a tad.) He stiffened where he stood.

“How many fingers am I holding up?” She spoke clearly and he was certain she had done this before.

“Uh, three? I- I’m fine, this is unnecessary!”

“Dude, you were just knocked unconscious and were nearly falling over. Trust me, it’s necessary.” The guy said.

“Follow my finger.”

His head bobbed along as he did what she said. He almost would have run if he wasn’t being held up by the other emt at the moment. His legs weren’t completely with him yet.

“Hmm. You don’t seem to have a concussion. Sit down.”

The guy lead him to a nearby chair in the dining room. The woman began to shuffle through her bag.

“So, what are your guy’s names anyways?” Liz said, leaning against the doorframe.

“Yeah, what are they?” Charlie chimed in with a slight grin.

“Sarah.”

“And mine’s Arthur.” The guy, now named said. Sarah finally seemed to find what she was looking for as she pulled a stethoscope from her large bag.

“Hey, now, I doubt that that’s really necessary! Look! I’m fine and well and living!”

“It’s standard procedure, dude. And you say that like you aren’t.” Arthur said while blocking off his path of escape.

“Well! I gotta pee, so I’ll be wandering around the house ‘till I find a bathroom.” Christopher said, standing up and walking off. (Lucky him, getting the hell out of dodge.)

Sarah pressed the cold object to his chest much to his distress. She paused and listened, then sighed and took it away.

“Looks like your t-shirt is muffling it too much. I can’t hear anything. I’m gonna need you to remove it.”

“I- I what? No way! Uh, because, because I get cold too easily! Yup, that’s why.” Michael started to warily stand up before Sarah said something.

“Alright, I guess we have to go the hard way. Brown hair,” she pointed at Charlie. “Hold him down. Arthur, pull his shirt up so I can hear his heartbeat.” Liz, the traitor, was just standing in the kitchen eating fortune cookies. Bastard.

“Kay.” Came from Arthur.

“Alright, I guess.” Came from Charlie.

“Crunch, crunch.” Came from Liz.

“No!” Came from Michael.

But he was too late! For the wretched Arthur lifted the hem of his shitty red t-shirt and pulled! All eyes were on his grody midsection as they revealed the horrifying truth. In the few seconds it took, Michael’s thoughts ran rampant with excuses for his sorry state.

‘Oh, it’s just sfx!’ No, that won’t work.

‘Oh, tatoo?’ No, not that either!

‘My wife took the organs in the divorce.’ Why would he have a wife?

‘I was wearing a second, ultra-realistic shirt under the other one this whole time!’ What was he, some charlatan?!

His shirt was pulled up all the way and the gory image was on display for all to see. The skin around the gash was purple and gray while the points where stitches started were even worse. Long, thin, black rows stretched across the wound and small, red-purple dots with dried blood were at the ends of each row. The injury itself was even worse.

A gaping hole all throughout his chest stomach region. You could tell someone tried (and somewhat failed) to patch it up with stitches, but only with rudimentary sewing skills and cheap thread. Some stitches had snapped, and you could see past the limp flaps of dead tissue into the chest. You could even see broken ribs. But no organs. Where were his organs?

Oh god, it was a medical professional’s worst nightmare. Luckily, they had two right there.

“Uhh, you just got Punked™️?”

“What. The fuck.” Sarah said, bringing a brief respite to the horrid silence. Charlie released her grip on his wrists and stumbled back. She had seen her fair share of shit shows, and this was clearly one of them. Liz could be heard choking on dry cookie from the kitchen. Arthur just stood there, Michael’s shirt still balled up in his hands. 

And at that crucial moment, it was then when Christopher chose to walk back in.

“Hey, I’m done in there if anyone else needs-“ He paused in the doorway and took in the sight of his older brother’s exposed chest. Confusion quickly turned to horror as the gears in his brain turned and he processed the scene in front of him. 

He walked out of the room.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Charlie shouted. 

“Er, it’s a long story? But as you can see I’m perfectly fine and you should let me go!”

“That is not PERFECTLY FINE.” Arthur said while gesturing to Michael’s... situation.“We are loading you up in the ambulance and taking you to the hospital and that is final.”

“Or, or! You could leave...?”

“We are NOT just up and leaving. We have jobs to do and if that includes dragging you into an ambulance, then so be it.” Sarah said while very clearly trying not to look at the ‘situation’.

“Ah, yeah normally I totally would, but I’ve kinda sorta been pronounced legally dead? Like, not walking and talking and showing up at hospital ER’s?”

“Then how did I somehow miss that while tracking you down? That’s not just some little offhand ‘oh Michael Afton? Yeah he’s dead. Moving on-‘.” Charlie stressed.

“Well, Fazbear Entertainment isn’t exactly known for being the most truthful when it comes to workplace hazards. Especially the deadly ones. They’ve hidden countless deaths.” Michael said. He was still slouching in the dining-room chair.

“But, but, then how are you still alive then?”

“I’m not. I’m dead, or at least I should be. It... it’s all still fairly recent and I’d rather not speak about it, but I can at least say this. There was a failed sister location and that- that place, that tomb is where he kept his wretched monsters. They tricked me, and I wound up like this. I’ve got no organs and I can’t even eat or breathe. But hey, at least I don’t have to pay off my college debt anymore.”

“Wait- you mean he didn’t destroy the clown? It’s still out there?” Liz finally spoke only after devouring all the fortune cookies.

“Oh, it’s out there alright. Fucker tricked me and used me and left me for dead. Why, sad your toy isn’t so perfect anymore?”

“God, shut up. Charlie, I don’t know why you called him here. All he does is fight! He’s useless.”

More arguing filled the quiet house. Even the emt’s took part, though they weren’t entirely sure what was going on. Christopher sat in the hall outside the room just out of sight and on the verge of confused panic, started to text the only sane person he could at the moment. His roommate, Kyle.

“Everyone, shut it!”

Everyone went quiet and looked at Charlie.

“It is 11 ‘o clock at night and I’m pretty sure I speak for all of when I say we are all too fucking tired to deal with this right now. You two,” she pointed at Arthur and Sarah.“Are going to pack up in your little ambulance and go home or whatever, and we are all going to go to our rooms, and go to sleep. Got. It?”

Charlie was a tad furious she would admit. She hadn’t really slept well last night and it was catching up with her. 

“We can deal with this at lunch tomorrow. Everyone else will be there too, so save your sob story’s for a few hours, capishe?”

A general acceptance came from the group, and they started leaving the room. Arthur had made his way to the front door when Sarah came up to Charlie holding a slip of paper. She handed it to her.

“I’d love to get a chance to study that guy. Call me when the chance arises.” Charlie took the paper when Sarah leaned in and whispered something in her ear. “He doesn’t have to be conscious.” She said bye, waved, and walked out the door. Soon the ambulance was gone and Charlie headed down the hall, completely unprepared to face what was next.

————————————————————————————————————————————  
BONUS

Christopher  
Kyle  
I really regret coming here  
Everyones fighting and I’m hiding in the hall

I-Believe-420  
That sucks man  
Can you leave early?

Christopher  
God I wish  
No  
The next bus out of here isn’t in like  
3 days at least

I-Believe-420  
Where are you staying

Christopher  
In the fucking SAME HOUSE AS THEM  
At least I get a room to my self  
Apparently Liz and her friend have to share lol

I-Believe-420  
Oof man

**Author's Note:**

> Whoo! That took a while, sorry. But I’m sure you can see why.  
> Ok, if you want more non-fic content/ updates on this au, you can find it at my tumblr @therealsirsticker under the tag ‘a disastrous family reunion au’. Well, I’ve got plans for the next part that will probably be much quicker to be posted. Comments help let me know what you’d like to see more of and really help motivate me to write!


End file.
